To my wife Ros

I love you. I always have and I will love you till the end of time
To Andi and Steph
May you always be as happy as I am with my wife. This is the best ever thing I can wish for you.
To Chris
May you have all you desire in 2006 and beyond. I love you.

Another New Year dawns. We're older and, hopefully wiser. Our aspirations for ourselves seem less important than our hopes for the happiness of our kids as they go through life. But then, you can look on your kids as your only chance of immortality so perhaps it is still aspirations for ourselves. That is too profound for a New Year celebration so I'll just leave it there.

I'm not a Child!

I'm frigging pissed off. In work today I was asked to help the showrooms team by fishing out the people who didn't need specialist help from them. So I hovered round the area picking up people who just needed help with items which could be dealt with without bothering the showrooms team. This often meant helping a customer not only in the showrooms area but also with other areas, like tiles, plumbing and other things related to kitchens and bathrooms but not normally directly dealt with by the showrooms team. I was, therefore, totally pissed off when, in the middle of completing an order for a customer with a variety of needs (which started off with kitchens in the showrooms area) a manager asked me why I wasn't in the showrooms area helping. Because I was with the customer I refrained from using any expletives and told him I had saved his precious showrooms team the bother of dealing with this one.
The showrooms manager had recently been talking to me about "owning" the customer which is what I was doing. See them through, make sure they have what they want and what they need and make sure they leave the store satisfied with their purchase and with the level of service. So to be challenged by a Welsh prat with, I'm sad to note, an Irish surname for doing what I should be doing is one of the greatest insults I have had to endure. That manager needs to learn about customer care. I was not dodging the job I was asked to do - just doing what I knew was best. Piss off and let us get on with the job because we really do care when we look after customers. It's one of the few ways we can maintain our own self-esteem in this crap job. It is also the way to keep the company in business - serving customers.

Snow Much Snow Good

A light dusting of snow hit Bristol today. Oh boy! Everybody panic! Oh how sad can we all get? As soon as it shows any sign of snow the whole of civilisation seems to want to grind to a halt. The wrong kind of snow stops all the trains. Drivers don't know how to stop on slippery roads - so they press the brake that much harder and wonder why the hell the car still travels on. We are never ready for it because it is so infrequent in this neck of the woods. Think how they must feel in Northern Spain where they have much more snow than us at the moment - if they were British they would probably think the end of the world was nigh. But only the Brits could really shag up their own lives by panicking at the first sign of snow. My wife summed up the amount of snow beautifully when she said "It's as if someone sprinkled icing sugar over the ground." What would happen if we had real snow? Goodness knows.

Global Blindness
Watching Australian television news on the net I saw a story about the hole in the ozone layer causing not only skin cancer but also blindness. Warnings are going out across the country to encourage people to wear sunglasses ("sunnies") to protect their eyes. Eye diseases seem to be on the increase in the Antipodean state. I wonder how long it will be before such warnings become global? I don't know how much fact there is in the story but it would seem to make sense that increased UV would not only affect skin. Keep an eye out for it (sorry about the pun).

Not much happened

Today not much happened. Shop was buzzing with bargain hunters because we've got a 15% off offer across the store (if you spend £50 or more). Lots of people wanting to buy new kitchens, bathrooms and conservatories (these are our target areas because we make loads-a-money out of these). Came home feeling blugeoned to find Offspring Senior has communicated the fact that he's being dropped off home tomorrow at 8.30 am by the prospective in-laws. We've offered them breakfast before they travel on to visit relatives further south. It will be good to meet them - but that early? On my day off?
I see from the BBC news that Eastern England is "gripped in a freeze". What a surprise - it's winter and it's freezing! Oh my God, how strange. As usual even though the freezing weather and the snow was predicted the general motoring public panicked. They still went out in their cars even though they hadn't a clue how to use them in snow and icy conditions. We get real winter conditions so rarely here that no-one has ever bothered to learn how to use a car in these conditions and few know when not to use the car. The word STUPID comes to mind. Maybe they think they can handle it, maybe they just don't know, maybe they think they're immune from accidents. Still the silly buggers get behind the wheel and treat a car the same as they would on a dry summer's day. They still brake too hard and too late - and then wonder why the car is still moving so they brake even harder. Skid pan training and regular re-tests should be mandatory. Besides which, if they went on a skid pan with proper supervision, many drivers would want to go back again and again. It is a life-saving skill which is enjoyable and even fun to learn!
If you have to drive in snow or ice USE THE BRAKE SENSIBLY, YOU STUPID PEOPLE - and if you can't do that just keep off the roads so that those people whose journeys are really necessary will have less chance of some prat losing control and running into them.
I've been doing more of my late father-in-law's memoirs Number Four in the Rear Rank, which can be viewed by going to http://www.spitfireman.blogspot.com. Hopefully one day I will finish it - perhaps even finding the missing tape of further notes I feel sure is still knocking around somewhere in my possession. Do visit the site. Some people may find it quaint and old-fashioned, others may even find it boring but I still think it's worth doing for the insights it gives into life in the British forces in the 1920s.
Read it and let me know what you feel.

Back to the Mundane

Well, the Christmas dinner went almost without a hitch, the wine was good, the presents were much appreciated by all (especially Offspring Junior's digital camera) and Mum is lost in Sudoku, both printed and electronic. I began reading my Bill Bryson book - he's as amusing as people tell me, quite enjoyable.
Now it's back to the grind. Post-Christmas Sale time at work in the hope that it might drag in a few more punters. It seemed to work. Normal Boxing Day custom in a DIY store consists of hardly anybody wanting to buy things (except that new float valve for the toilet because "ours flooded the bathroom on Christmas Day") and many more bringing back unwanted presents. Today there were 97 people waiting outside for us to open at 10.0 am! Poor sad creatures. I almost felt like going out and asking if they needed the phone number of a good psychiatrist. But still the morning went by quite quickly and we were reasonably busy. Come the afternoon they dwindled away. There were local football matches to go and watch, dinner to consume and digest, beer and wine to drink - all of which were quite compelling reasons for many people not to make the afternoon visit to the local DIY Emporium. Five o'clock and freedom! But back to the drudge again tomorrow . . .

Happy Christmas

It's Christmas morning and the Mac family rituals have begun. Mum got up and made a cup of tea for us, Dad forgot that we "weren't having Christmas stockings at the foot of the bed this year" and duly plonked some pressies on Mum's pillow so she could open them while drinking her tea in bed (oops!) Offspring Junior duly had his Christmas stocking (he's 18, for goodness sake!). Now I'm blogging, Offspring is buried in Terry Pratchett's latest tome while munching chocolates and Mum is playing electronic Sudoku.
Peace, perfect peace . . .
Snow is forecast today or tomorrow in the Eastern part of England where Offspring Senior is visiting. It could be enough to disrupt transport (but then one snowflake and everyone panics in this country - we're just not used to anything extreme) so I hope he will be able to make it back to Bristol for work on Wednesday. I don't suppose he'll worry too much if he can't. Sod it, it's Christmas!

Season's Greetings . . .

It is Christmas Eve, I've just had a miserable day at work and I'm tired. Not the best way to start Christmas you might think.
Wrong! Because it will help me to appreciate the one day off that I have. No work, presents, good food and drink and - most important of all - my family.
It's probably the best way to approach Christmas Day. Tomorrow will be filled with the usual rituals of Christmas Day in the Mac household. Mum makes sausage rolls in the morning, Dad cooks the usual Christmas lunch of coq au vin (it saves all that tedious carving of poultry - and there's wine involved) "helped" by offspring. Washing-up may follow, depending on how much wine was consumed. Then gather round the tree to open presents. Dad usually falls asleep during this in the hope that he won't be prevailed upon to make tea.
There won't be an over-abundance of festive alcohol in our house, nor too much rich food. Nor will there be masses of unnecessary presents. Don't I sound like a Scrooge? I hope not because it's no like that. There will be sufficient food and alcohol for us to really enjoy ourselves. Presents are all (hopefully) appreciated and not just bought for the sake of them. The most important part of our Christmas will be being together.
One of our family will not be here because he is with his fiancee visiting her family. That is the first time that all four of us have not been together at this time but we understand his reasons and he and his intended will be with us for New Year. It's just another sign of the fledglings finally fleeing the nest.
To all of you, whoever you are and whatever you believe, I wish happiness, peace and sufficiency for your needs. It is all we can ask for. It is more than many will get.
If everyone in the world could have the satisfaction of having loving family or friends around them then the world would be a far better place.
I wish you all a happy and peaceful Christmas.

Is Nothing Sacred?

Throughout most of my adult life 8.45 on a Sunday morning was the time to switch on my radio and listen to Alistair Cooke's Letter from America. It must be well over thirty years that I almost ritualised the act of switching on the radio just after the Godspot on Radio 4 to catch up with the easy style of Mr Cooke giving us insights into life, both political and ordinary, in the USA. He had a knack of making the most mundane sound interesting and helping you to understand the human side of American life instead of the "plastic" Yanks which we all see on TV and in the cinema (I refuse to use the Americanisation "movies"). Even though I never met him I feel he was one of my friends and there are many - on both sides of the pond - who feel the same. He was an institution, a sane, calming voice in a topsy-turvy world.
The news came today that, before cremation, some of Alistair's bones were surgically removed after his death and sold to a criminal ring for seven thousand measly dollars - not much more than the cost of a small fitted bathroom in my shop. How sick can you get? Is America so rife with greed that it can't respect the feelings of his family? Does money rule everything in the "land of the free"?
An irony that wouldn't have escaped Alistair's quick wit was that his bones were cancerous. Anybody who received tissue from this source via a transplant would be receiving not life but long-term suffering and painful death. Thus the perpetrators of this awful crime have, in effect, murdered any recipients of this tissue. Even if they are caught and successfully prosecuted it would be almost impossible to prove who else died through their greed.
Why does money mean more than life? Is this America, land of the free or is it just that greed conquers all? If it is the latter then it throws into contention everything that America does in the world - Iraq, Afghanistan, Guantanamo and all the rest. Why doesn't someone over there stop this farce?
Or perhaps they're all too busy making money.
Once again - nuff said.

American Homicide

So the latest proposal is to have two kinds of murder - first degree and second degree. Just like the Yanks (why do we always have to follow the damned Yanks?). How can there be degrees of murder? The victim is just as dead and the bereaved family is just as desolate and lost however the murder is judged.
In the UK there is no death penalty. I agree with this for two reasons. Firstly the death penalty is given in the name of all the people and I, for one, could not ask anyone (especially the official executioner) to kill another just as I could not wilfully kill someone myself. Secondly there is no real justice in the "eye for an eye" argument - two people die instead of one and the victim cannot be reincarnated neither can a dead perpetrator repent.
At the moment "life" imprisonment can mean as little as 8 years with remission for "good behaviour", whereas stealing a few million pounds from a bank can attract a much larger sentence. I sometimes wonder about the value of life compared to the value of commerce in the capitalist world.
We already have a two-tier system whereby the killing has to be proved to be pre-meditated. If it is proven then it is murder, if not then it could be manslaughter - which attracts a much less severe sentence. There is a sub-section of the latter definition which a Coroner can decide: death by misadventure. All these definitions are difficult enough to come by without adding further sub-sections to the the list.
It all boils down to our values. What value do we place on the life of a human being? Does killing another put right the killing of the first? Does anyone benefit from the execution of a murderer? Should life imprisonment mean just that - life until you die?
Do I have any answers? No. Greater minds than mine have wrestled with this conundrum over many centuries.
I am more than uncomfortable with the death penalty but I am still trying to understand how there can be more than one level of murder. Perhaps if we valued life above all other things then we would truly be able to understand the misery inflicted on both the bereaved and society in general.

Promises, promises

Education, education, education. That was what Tony Blair promised was going to be his prime target before he was elected. Since then he and his minions have tampered with the system so that now a teacher may not even be needed. The National Curriculum is now so prescribed that almost every lesson in school is scripted. Perhaps they should employ actors to read the scripts instead of teachers who understand how children learn? If we let this go on too long even the teachers will be taught to only read scripts so that they no longer recognise educational needs in individual pupils. So, eight years on, what about education now, Tony?
So the Prime Minister comes out with limited backing for schools to have even more autonomy on who they take. This sounds like opening the door to the dreaded old 11-plus system whereby the academically "top" 20% of pupils would go to Grammar schools and the rest would be put on the scrap-heap of life in a Secondary Modern school. Now I know that it may benefit many people to be taught with others of similar standards but in the past it tended to lock-in the late developers to a life of academic - thus career - second-best. The comprehensive system at present in use is not perfect - what system can be? But academic division could soon lead to a new "class" system. When I went to a Grammar school (many years ago) I hated it. I was presumably in the upper range academically but the teaching methods were not right for me. Thus I ended up not achieving exam results and going into an apprenticeship in printing where I did quite well for myself. I often feel I never reached my full potential but I get along OK. I still wonder whether going into one of the "new-fangled" comprehensive schools would have given me a better start in life but it is too late to turn the clock back now. Turning the clock back is not an option for anyone. We have to live with what we are. But in the comprehensive system there is perhaps a better chance of escaping the "condemned to a second-class life" syndrome. I can only speak from my own experience but I still regret passing the 11-plus exam. Perhaps I would have done better elsewhere than a boys-only Grammar school, perhaps not.
I was glad to hear the Deputy Prime-Minister (I'm sure that's a lip-service title designed to keep the Left of the party on-side) John Prescott voice his doubts about the latest proposals, even if it shows there are still people who don't lick Tony Blair's ass all the time. Prescott is often labelled a "buffoon" but I'm sure he believes he is in politics for the good of the ordinary person-in-the-street. Keep the debate going, John and thank whatever deity you believe in that there are still people who aren't afraid to say what they think.
My own two sons both went to the local comprehensive school. The older one could have done better in his exams but still achieved what he needed to go to Birmingham Conservatoire to take a B.Mus(hons) degree studying trombone. The younger lad had to work harder. He switched schools after his GCSEs and went to a comprehensive (which in the past had been a grammar school) where the academic standard was deemed to be higher. He got the necessary exam results and is now at University in Cheltenham studying for a multi-media degree.
I truly believe that we, as parents, had something to do with their achievement. We encouraged them, from pre-school days, to read, write and want to learn. We didn't force them - we just made it part of normal life for books to be read, stories to be written and interest in the world around them to be communicated. Perhaps Mr Blair should be doing more to encourage parents to help their children to learn instead of - as many parents from all walks of life do - passing the buck completely to the teachers. It is an undisputed fact that children learn more in their
pre-school years than afterwards. They have to learn how to interact with people and the world around them - they even have to learn how to learn.
I wonder how many exasperated teachers there are who just wish they could get some back-up from parents?
The whole charade is turning into a load of bollocks.
Nuff said . . .